


Old News

by leehwi



Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Smut, and top is just an ass, daesung is elusive, in which jiyong is an ass and a child
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-18 03:23:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9365801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leehwi/pseuds/leehwi
Summary: Jiyong is still upset over his breakup from two years ago and when his ex returns, he finds maybe he's not entirely let go.





	1. THE STORM

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, this is my first BigBang fic and I was a little nervous about posting it, but here you go.  
> I will add tags as I go, don't worry.
> 
> This whole fic is gonna be kind of all over the place, sorry about that.  
> But I hope you like it!

Jiyong had been alone for a long time, he'd been lonely recently too, he didn't always used to be lonely. For awhile he'd managed to cope with his aloneness, it hadn't bothered him, but then he came. He came in a storm, a whirlwind of paint and cigarette smoke and Jiyong had been caught in it. He'd been yanked around by the winds of the storm before one word got him thrown out. He'd been left behind and the storm of paint and smoke disappeared as suddenly as it'd come. He had been left on the street, covered in a few lasting specks of paint, his clothes smelling of smoke and sex. His heart was stained with the memory of him and it got heavier as time went by.

Working at the shop wasn't a problem at first, he liked it actually but recently it was more of a necessity. He dreaded going to work some days but had to remind himself that it was so he could contribute to live in his apartment. His roommate had almost replaced him a few times, but after begging him, he'd been allowed to stay. It wasn't like his roommate was a whole lot better, he played the drums first thing in the morning, almost always in his underwear. Jiyong had been the neighbor's target for noise complaints, telling him to 'get a handle on his roommate'.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Yoo, but Kang has a mind of his own, you see. Completely insane. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be late to work," was his argument this time, bolting down the stairs before the woman could hit him. Mrs. Yoo was about 50 years old and had four children, all of whom were absolute trolls, they were horrific neighbors. If Jiyong wasn't as nice as he was, he would accept Kang's noise and file a complaint against her kids instead.

As he raced down the street to where his bicycle was chained, he looked to the clouds, noticing a buildup of dark ones. "Looks like rain," he muttered to himself, slipping the key for his bike back into his pocket and climbing onto the rickety old thing. He cycled across the city, the sky darkening by the minute. When he finally reached the ramen shop, he put his bicycle under the overhang and headed inside.

"Jiyong!" chirped Seunghyun, the kid who worked main counter for the shop. He was a bright young man, who joked around a lot, this cheery attitude made it difficult for Jiyong to like him.

"Ri," he murmured, the name he'd given the kid was 'Seungri' as it meant victory. It had started after he'd talked about how he won every soccer game when he was younger and Jiyong told him that bragging about victories was arrogant. Thus the name had started. It started as malicious, but had grown on them both over time.

Working as a waiter at a noodle shop was far from ideal, but it paid the bills and there were far worse jobs to have. As he poured steaming hot bowls of ramen and served them to expectant customers, he silently questioned what had gone wrong in his life that left him here. Maybe it all started with his parents, maybe something went wrong there, or maybe it was due to his troubles in his adolescence or maybe it was because of him...the storm, maybe he started it. In terms of storms, the one brewing outside seemed to be much fiercer than his, but it still reminded Jiyong of him, making him sink down onto the counter, chin in hand.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Mrs. Lee queried, scrambling past him to wipe the other side of the counter.

"I'm afraid they're worth a great deal less than that," he responded in a detached voice.

She huffed in response, apparently not wanting to hear more. Mrs. Lee was a hard woman, she would bustle about and hit you with her rag if you didn't do things properly, but she had a heart. Whenever Jiyong slipped into a depressive mood, such as this, she seemed to go soft and ignore him. It made sense how Seunghyun turned out the way he did, all warm and kind, his eyes crinkling when he laughed, just like hers did.

As the store finally came to a close, Jiyong finished wiping down the tables before peering out the front window. The rain was pouring down now, a massive storm had hit the city and it didn't look like it would be easy to get home. He could've asked Mrs. Lee for a ride home, but he suddenly remembered how terrible of a driver she was. He'd be safer walking his bike home. He went in search of his coat, his heart already sinking at the idea of going out in that.

"You're not thinking of going out there, are you?" Seungri asked, pulling his apron off over his head.

Jiyong fixed him with a blank stare. "Gotta get home somehow."

The younger man made a sharp 'tsk' sound and shook his head. "We've rooms upstairs, you know? In fact, a nice gentleman is making use of one now, surely you can stay here tonight."

Weighing his options, Jiyong decided it might be nice to die out in the rain as opposed to accept an offer from Seungri. "I'll take my chances," he barked, tugging his jacket zipper up to his chin.

Seungri seemed to want to argue, but he sighed grudgingly. "Be careful," he sounded genuine.

"Whatever."

The rain was thick and it was nearly impossible to see ahead of you, the lights from the street lamps caught in the rain and made everything into a thick haze. Jiyong was already thoroughly soaked, suddenly regretting not taking Seungri's offer. His arrogance surprised even himself sometimes, he hated how quickly he would respond without taking time to think things through. Now he was going to die in a rainstorm all because of one kid's stupid mistake two years ago. He really shouldn't have held it against Seungri, the kid was desperate for friends, he hadn't meant to cause trouble. But he did, and because of that trouble, Jiyong lost someone.

Storms always left bad memories for Jiyong, he was always left either depressed or angry, but he'd always been too lazy to do anything about either one. This storm was more inconvenient than most and he had to squint to see 10 feet in front of him, the raindrops were thick and kept hitting him in the face. He grumbled to himself the entire way home, almost getting hit by two cars until he finally reached the decrepit flat that he shared with Kang.

Kang was an interesting person, he was loud, laughed too much and was most likely smoking weed. He had a full name, but Jiyong forgot by now. As he climbed the steps, deciding to bring his bicycle in for the night, he could already hear Kang laughing at the TV, the volume too loud. Mrs. Yoo would complain, he was sure.

He unlocked the door with great difficulty, trying to hold onto his bike in the narrow hallway. As the door swung open, he was hit with a strong smell...dinner. The nice thing about living with Kang was that he made dinner, no matter what, he always had dinner on the table. Tonight it smelled like kimchijjigae, Kang's food was never extravagant, they were cheap yet edible. Either way they were better than Jiyong's cooking as he'd never managed to not burn rice. He left his bicycle in the front hall and locked the door behind him, he walked to the small kitchen, seeing the pot on the stovetop.

He grabbed a clean bowl from the drainer next to the sink, peeking into the living room to see Kang sitting on the couch. He was very fit and had perfect body proportions, his hair was dark and hung in front of his eyes...it was a wonder how he saw anything. He was watching a skit on the television, the volume ridiculously loud. Jiyong secretly wondered if he'd damaged his hearing from playing the drums too much. He filled his bowl with the kimchijjigae, which smelled very good and he grabbed a set of chopsticks before joining Kang.

The first thing he did was grab the remote and turn the volume down some, which somehow went unnoticed by Kang. Shoveling down the food, Jiyong tried not to watch the skit, he despised those things. They were never actually funny and made him feel more depressed on occasion. He could never understand what Kang found so funny about them, but as soon as he was done with his dinner, he went to rinse his bowl and leave it in the sink before disappearing into his room.

The second the door closed, he went to fall back on his bed. He let out a long sigh and stared at the ceiling, he was desperate for a smoke, his skin beginning to crawl with the desperation. He had sworn to himself that he wouldn't smoke, it was "New Year's Resolution", even though he'd never believed in those. This year was different and he'd decided to try it out, surely it wasn't that bad. It turned out to suck a lot and he kind of hated himself for doing it. What was supposed to make him feel better? He didn't feel proud of himself or like he was a better person, the only thing he felt anymore was a wild urge to smoke, which wasn't much different from normal.

"Fuck," he whispered to himself, rolling over to stare at the wall. He had little tacks that he'd stuck in the wall to hold up photos and papers, to-do lists, reminders, old pictures of him and his childhood friend Youngbae, pictures of his old Seoul neighborhood. There was even a picture of his sister, Dami, her smile always helped to make his room a little brighter. He reached over, the small room making it easy for him to touch the pictures. There was one of his old cat, but underneath this one was a hidden photo. He pulled the tack off and allowed the secret photo to fall into his hand.

Seunghyun. Not the noodle boy, but Jiyong's storm. He had been tall and oh so beautiful, his eyebrows would furrow and the storm inside of him thundered, he would smile and the storm turn to sunshine. But when he left, all that he left in his wake was rainclouds. He broke Jiyong's heart, him and his gorgeous eyes and his soft hands, his paint speckled t-shirts and his thick thighs. He was everything that Jiyong craved, but nothing that he could be trusted with.  As much as he blamed the other, he was sure he could be blamed just as much, if not more so. He'd let himself drift, wander...in a way it was all his fault.

He slowly slid face down onto his bed, his heart aching and his head pounding. He wanted to wash the whole day down with alcohol, but as he wouldn't be able to get any without Kang noticing, he settled for feeling miserable. With a sigh, he decided maybe there was a way to make his addictions rest for a few minutes. He reached under his bed and pulled out his small bottle of lube that he kept on hand, the package of condoms hadn't been used in months, so there was no use in even acknowledging them. He opened the lube and poured some onto his hand. He had difficulty getting himself worked up sometimes, so he just let his thoughts wander back to the nights he'd spent with Seunghyun.

The way his hair was slicked back on his head, his hips the perfect width, his legs long and sturdy. His body was soft and hard in all the right places, trembling against Jiyong's skin. His fingers worked roughly inside of him before he would replace them with his long cock, which nestled inside of Jiyong so well. He would fuck him for hours, in bed, on the couch, on the counters, in the bathtub or shower, occasionally on the floor. Jiyong would have difficulty walking for days afterwards, but it was so worth it, just to have Seunghyun with him.

The memories filled his mind, making him forget his headache, the reminder of Seunghyun's words, filthy and deep against his ears, his voice low enough to make Jiyong's toes curl. He was rough sometimes, but then he'd be tender and touch Jiyong's skin with gentle fingers. The sex was the best part, but there was also the nights when they'd just talk. Seunghyun was funny and his laugh was high pitched and warmed Jiyong's heart. He was sweet too, he'd tell Jiyong how beautiful he was and how much he liked his tattoos, stroking them carefully with a slender finger. He wasn't always gentle, but he had his moments. On occasion, he would drink too much and would be too rough, but then Jiyong would give as good as he was getting and fuck back,  _ hard _ .

He finished quickly and wiped his hand on his pants, making a mental note to change them in a bit. Jacking off didn't even feel that good anymore, but out of his many addictions, this was one of the safer ones. He stared at the ceiling, trying not to think too long or hard in regards to Seunghyun. He sighed and got up off the bed, he quickly changed and washed his hands, opening the door to his bedroom and peering out. Kang was standing in the kitchen, washing up the dishes.

"I'm going out," Jiyong called over his shoulder, reaching for his coat.

Kang simply nodded, verbal responses weren't common for him.

Jiyong sighed, before grabbing his keys and slamming the door behind him, muttering under his breath. "Cock."

He pounded down the stairs, making mental calculations of how much cash he had, versus how much money he had on his card. All in all, it amounted to not a lot. The rain was still thick, but he was getting itchy and desperate, his head was swirly and his picking through his thoughts was like dragging a stick through mud. He chewed on his lip as he walked, counting his steps, his hood drawn up over his head. The convenience store was exactly 276 steps away from his apartment door, he'd learned this from years of going there for the exact same reason he was going now.

When he reached the dimly lit store, he pushed through the door and spared a glance at the small old lady that worked the counter. She was always there. He began to wonder if she came with the building.

He walked past shelves of snacks and carbonated drinks, all of which contained far more sugar and fat than he would ever be able to eat, he thought. Pain killers, cough medicine and bandages were in the next aisle, none of which were what he was looking for. He barely stopped to glance at the medications, wondering if he would be able to get away with buying some, however in light of his limited supply of currency, he decided it was best not to.

Behind the counter was a large bookcase with a glass front, inside were rows and rows of various cigarettes, few of which were less than 4,800 won. He saw one for 4,600 and decided it was worth the 200 won less, so he carefully approached the counter.

"Excuse me," he interrupted, the woman seemingly more interested in her magazine. The door behind him opened and closed, but he didn't look back. "May I have that pack there?" he requested, attempting to sound polite.

The woman's eyes seemed to take forever to look up from the magazine, but she slowly turned and unlocked the cabinet. He pulled out his ID card and waited for her to turn back around so he could present it to her. She barely glanced at it, before swiping the pack over the scanner. His eyes fell to the rack next to the counter.

"And one of these," he pulled a small black umbrella from the stand and set it on the counter.

The lady's sigh might have suggested she was annoyed, but her blank expression was unreadable. Jiyong didn't care either way, he chewed on his lip, waiting for her to finish ringing up his items. She was taking an awfully long time, by now the other customer would be waiting behind him. His foot was itching to tapped impatiently, but his mother raised him better than that, so he managed to keep it still.

As she entered in his total, staring at each button as if she forgot where they were, slowly pressing them, Jiyong felt like he was dying. He glanced over his shoulder, feeling the presence of someone behind him. His mouth opened and he managed to get, "My apologies~" out before he stopped.

The waiting customer was tall and had dark hair swept off his forehead, his features were chiseled and unique, unmistakable. Seunghyun, the storm that had left Jiyong's life a mess, was standing behind him with the stupidest fucking look on his face. He blinked, before a smirk appeared on his face.

"Hmm, aren't you familiar?" his deep voice hitting Jiyong like a truck.

Jiyong stared for all of two seconds, before he threw some money on the counter, grabbed his umbrella and took off. He burst through the door of the store, his feet pounding on the wet cement, his heart about to climb up and out of his throat.

_ Just run.  _

_ Run away. _

_ Run like he did from you. _

_ Run like you've wanted to your whole life. _

_ Get away. _

_ Get out. _

_ Run. _


	2. DRAMA AND ROOMMATES

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updating sooner than I said I would, I know ^-^  
> thanks for the feedback! I really appreciate it :)  
> I promise this story is going somewhere...

"Did you call him?" Youngbae asked, slurping down his bubble tea.

The sun was hot today, despite how bitterly cold it was, the crisp air kept them from sweating too much.

"You're joking, right? Of course, I didn't. And anyways, I can't now, I have work," Jiyong grumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets as they walked. He had called Youngbae up and requested that he walk with him to work, he wanted someone to rant to about last night's encounter and Kang wasn't someone he would ever talk with, especially not when he was still in his underwear, standing in the kitchen. Jiyong had gone to work without eating because of it.

As they approached the shop, Youngbae shifted uncomfortably before stopping. "Hey, I'm gonna go, call me when you get off?" yeah that's better!

Jiyong watched him fidget before waving his hand. "Whatever, go," he sighed. "You're so fucking weird."

His best friend shot him some finger hearts before turning around and marching off down the street. There were some things about Youngbae that Jiyong would never understand, he'd realized this long ago when Youngbae had become obsessed with having the most atrocious haircuts. When he refused to change it when even his mother complained, Jiyong had deemed him hopeless. There was no helping someone who didn't want to be helped, it was pointless even trying.

Jiyong had worked himself into a frenzy and his stomach was in knots. Work drained all of his energy and by the time his shift was over, he was dragging his feet, trying his best not to throw up. Stress tended to do this to him, leaving him sick for a day or two. He slouched against the counter, staring into the abyss that was the blank wall across from him, his eyes fading over as he got lost in the ugly red color of the shop.

"Jiyong," a hand suddenly snapped in front of his face, making him jump. He whirled around to see Seungri grinning at him, little prick.

"What?"

"You okay? You don't seem so good," Seungri gave him a little frown and tilted his head, if he wasn't such a brat, Jiyong might have believed that he cared. But he was a brat and there was no way he cared.

"Why the hell should I tell you?" Jiyong sneered.

The kid shrugged and leaned closer. "I'm good at helping people."

Trying to come up with a single time that Seungri helped him made his head hurt, too much thinking, so Jiyong simply turned his back. He was sick of listening to Seungri's nagging and still silently blaming him for everything, he turned to count the drawer, hoping that he could ignore Seungri until he was safely out of the shop. As soon as he was finished counting his drawer, he felt Seungri standing behind him. "What?" he snapped.

"I just...I'm sorry," the younger sighed. "If you're mad at me, I'm sorry. I'm not sure what I did, but it must be my fault."

How dare he play the victim here? Pretending as if he didn't know what he did to Jiyong's life, as if he didn't know how he'd destroyed him. However watching Seungri stare down at the ground, with a little pout on his lips, a tiny tug on Jiyong's heart made him sigh, suddenly annoyed.

"It's not your fault, just go away!"

_ Damn kid, playing innocent. _

Jiyong shoved the money bag at the younger man, before storming off to grab his things, he was desperate to get out of there. As he was tugging his coat on, he heard pounding footsteps and he looked up to see the door to the lodgings open, a tall figure stepping out.

_ Fuck! Two days in a row? I'm damn unlucky.  _ He thought.

The tall Seunghyun smiled down at him. "Ah! I saw you yesterday at the store, it's good to see you again," he bowed low, his unique choice of words always set something off inside of Jiyong.

Jiyong grumbled something in response before all but running out of the store. He tried not to notice the footsteps behind him, the second he got out in the cold, he pulled his coat tighter around him.

"Jiyong-ah!" came the voice behind him, making his insides freeze up.

He almost gagged on his own emotions that welled inside of him as he slowly turned around.

"Oh, now you remember me," he groaned in response. "What the hell do you want?" He turned to face the taller man, suddenly hit with how overwhelmingly attractive he was.

Seunghyun had always been attractive, his angular features just seemed to hit right in Jiyong's chest, making his throat tighten, the feelings that filled him right now were not familiar to present time Jiyong, maybe a Jiyong of the past would have known them, but now they were entirely unfamiliar. He wanted to scream and cry, but as his sister had said when he'd last spoke  to her in regards to Seunghyun -  _ You're a grown up now, Jiyong, you can't let him effect you like this. _

Seunghyun stepped closer to him, his face relaxing into a warm expression, which was out of place on him. "I remembered you before, of course. Perhaps I hadn't wanted to cause a scene in that convenience store."

He seemed to stare blankly for a few seconds as the city spun around them, cars whizzing past, people riding by on their bicycles, Jiyong's own just a few feet from where he was standing, how he wished to jump on it and ride away as quickly as possible. 

_ Face him, Jiyong. Do now, what you've wanted to for years. _

"What do you want from me?" Was the question he decided to begin with, out of the many swirling in his head.  _ Why now? Where were you? Can’t you leave me alone? _

Seunghyun laughed sharply, shaking his head. His hair was black now, that was new. It was white before, that was how he remembered him, glowing white and angelic. He hadn’t thought about it before, but the black made him look strikingly more handsome, it was irritating. His skin was darker, looked like he’d been getting some sun and stopped using those stupid whitening creams. Jiyong had always hated them. However he did look...sicklier, he had dark circles under his eyes and his cheekbones were gaunt, as if he hadn’t eaten in awhile.

“I don’t particularly want anything from you, just thought I’d give you this,” he said, pulling a pen out of his pocket and reaching for Jiyong’s hand, but the younger snatched it away before he could touch him. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he promised.

Jiyong unwillingly allowed him to grab his hand, trying not to flinch as the pen moved swiftly across the back of his hand. Seunghyun was just as gentle now as he always had been, his fingers swiping against Jiyong’s fingers as he released his hand, allowing it to fall to his side. Jiyong glanced at his hand and saw the numbers scribbled on his skin.

“What is this?” he sighed.

“My number, in case you decide you might like to have a drink sometime.”

“And why would I want that?”

Seunghyun’s eyebrows creased into a frown and he muttered to himself for a second, his hand dipping into his coat pocket, withdrawing a pack of cigarettes. “Just something for you to think about,” he growled under his breath, suddenly angry.

Now Jiyong remembered strongly what brought them to an end, the drinking, the violent mood swings, the constant back and forth. That was what had made him drift away, that was what had brought Seungri into the situation. It was all a mess to begin with, so it wasn’t solely the Lee kid’s fault, but whereas Jiyong poured the gasoline, he dropped the match. The flames were long since gone out and all that was left were the scorch marks.

“I have to go,” Jiyong muttered, pushing past Seunghyun, he reached his bicycle and climbed on, taking off in the wrong direction. He would circle around later, but for now he just needed to let off some steam.

He cycled out of the center of the city, to where a nice little park sat. He occasionally came to this park to rest, after particularly long days when Seungri pushed him past his temper limits, with his stupid smiles and his niceness.  _ God, it’s infuriating, _ Jiyong thought to himself, as he parked his bike.

He found a nice little spot under a tree to sit at and pick at the grass for awhile, the cold breeze making him more comfortable with his knees pulled into his chest. He always did well in the cold, it seemed to blow right past him and he hardly noticed it some days, however for some reason, not that he was full of emotions and feeling entirely empty inside, he seemed to notice it more than usual.

Staring up at the sky, he felt small and insignificant, sort of how he felt after Seunghyun left. Maybe he was always small and insignificant, he just didn’t notice it until he was faced with something bigger and more grandiose than him. Only then did he truly notice how little he was.

Even when he was younger, he acted bigger than he was, he would only get away with it around his mother and then cower when in the presence of his father, who was a large man with an even larger temper. He still had some scars to prove it. That was when it helped to have an older sister, who was kind and gentle, she’d always been that way. Now she wasn’t as gentle, as he was an adult, but she was just as kind.

It helped to have family, sometimes, but other times...he preferred not to be a burden to them. He felt like less of a burden when he could forget they existed for a few hours, only when he would remember them, did the overwhelming sense of being a bother to someone would return.

His mobile buzzed, making him jump. He yanked it out of his pocket and fixed it with an annoyed look, as if it was the mobile’s fault for someone trying to contact him. There was a message from Kang, requesting the time he would be home as he was already later than usual. He tapped a quick response, something about stopping at the store and that he would be home soon. He sighed and tossed his phone onto the grass next to him.

Lowering his head into his hands, he closed his eyes, willing the world away. There was rarely a time when he wanted to be here, but this feeling was too much. Everything was too much. He felt it building inside of him and he let out a yell of frustration.

After noticing the surprised mother, who was rushing her two children away, he quickly climbed back onto his bike and rode for home. His stomach was grumbling anyway, he could eat, especially if Kang had prepared something good. He’d been trying to force himself to be a stress eater recently, he was generally too thin and malnourished, but whenever Kang made something good, he ate as much as possible claiming it was the stress. He was always too full after dinner, but it kept his ribs from showing.

When he arrived back to the small flat that he shared with his strange friend, he locked the bicycle to the stand out front and quickly climbed the steps that led to his home. He slid his key into the lock and quickly slipped inside, an amazing smell immediately hitting his nose.

He frowned and stepped further into the home, stopping to leave his shoes at the door. “Kang!” he called. “What did you make?” he asked, in minimum disbelief.

“Meat,” came the soft reply. Kang was always soft spoken - despite his obnoxiously loud laughter - and rarely spoke much, in fact Jiyong couldn’t remember the last time they’d had an actual conversation.

Entering the kitchen, it was apparent that Kang had decided they would eat well today, he had a beautiful display of freshly grilled meat and lettuce wraps, little bowls of sauce on the table. Jiyong’s mouth watered just looking at it. He looked at Kang, still unsure if he had made it for the both of them.

“Really?” he asked, thrilled at the nod he received in response, he took a seat at the table and began eating right away. His mouth now full and his little cheeks puffed up, he gave a little thumbs up and exclaimed, “Daebak!”

Somehow this seemed to please Kang, as he laughed in response and ate a little himself. “You should eat up, Jiyong-ie,” he said, this nickname was rarely ever exchanged between them and it made Jiyong stop eating in surprise. “I can’t have you undereating in my home.”

“I suppose not,” Jiyong muttered. He had never really thought to ask before and he supposed he best now. “Kang-shi,” he began, before pausing.

“Yes?” Kang encouraged him to go on.

“It’s just...you never really talk about yourself. I don’t even know how old you are.”

Kang simply laughed in response, eating another piece of meat and lettuce, dipped in sauce. He nodded thoughtfully, seeming as if he was going to respond, before going back to eating. Jiyong opened his mouth to question him some more, truly wondering if he had been mistreating this man all along, he’d always treated him as if he was older, but perhaps he wasn’t as old as he seemed. Before he could get any words out, Kang stood up and muttered something about going out.

“Aren’t you going to eat more?” Jiyong asked, surprised by his abrupt exit.

Kang laughed, peering through his hair at his roommate, waving his hand. “Eat as much as you’d like, I’m not hungry anymore.”

Jiyong shrugged, it was best not to question, it wasn’t often that he got to eat meat this good. Kang called over his shoulder that there was rice in the fridge, before closing the door behind him. Jiyong waited till the count of four, in case Kang came back in, before he raced to the refrigerator and pulled out the small container of cooked rice.

“Whoa!” he exclaimed to himself, struck by a sudden thought. “Where did he get the money for all this?” he muttered as he took in the meat. It wasn’t cheap meat, that was for sure, it was healthy and juicy and there was a lot of it.

Before he could think much more of it, his phone rang and he went to answer it, in more of a mood to talk to someone after he got to eat. “Hello?” he queried, without checking the ID.

“Jiyong-ah!” came Youngbae’s voice, the younger sounding tired. “I just got off work, what’re you doing?”

“Meat, Youngbae! Come over!” he cried, before hanging up.

Occasionally, in between his depression, little moments of pure joy filled him and apparently this was one of them. He was so excited about his meat that all thoughts of Seunghyun had left, he was running on a sort of ecstasy high after his meltdown in the park.

He decided he would wait for Youngbae while watching TV and he sat down to see what was on, there wasn’t much that was good, but there was something decent. A romantic drama, those were always intriguing. Secretly Jiyong cried over them at 2am, but if Youngbae was coming over, then he would have to force himself to laugh and criticize them.

By the time Youngbae arrived, Jiyong had already choked up once and he felt a bit ashamed staring at his friend now, his eyes still watery.

“Watching a drama again?” Youngbae teased, before he got smacked by his best friend and ushered into the home, where he was fed well and made to watch a sappy romance. It was almost like they were kids again, sitting in Mrs. Dong’s living room, watching  _ First Love _ when it first aired in ‘96. They were young and stupid and watched whatever their mother’s wanted to watch, but they were having fun and that was what actually mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much for reading! lemme know what you thought  
> poor seungri LOL


	3. Fucker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eyyyy, y'all are lit for all the views and kudos, I really hope you guys are enjoying this :)

**Shikoku, Japan**

**Five Days Ago  
  
**

_ Seunghyun took another dragging breath from his cigarette, his paint stained hands clutched the cigarette closely, his fingers trembling slightly. He stared off of his balcony, his eyes fixated on nothing in particular. The longer he stared away from the canvas in front of him, the less he had to think of it. He was avoiding his painting, he knew that, but his mind had been elsewhere recently, somewhere far away from Shikoku. _

_ The front yard of the udon shop that he lived above had a large dirt circle, the village children would gather there to play soccer during the summer, but as it was cold now, they were nowhere to be seen. _

_ “Seunghyun! Can’t you close the door?” Yori, his model of the week, complained, pulling her robe close around her exposed body. _

_ He let out a dull hum, before flicking his cigarette into the empty dirt circle below, turning to face her. “Yori,” he said, drawing her name out on his tongue. _

_ She seemed to preen under his voice, his words alone seemed to seduce her. _

_ “I’ve been doing some reading, you see. I looked up your name.” _

_ “Mine?” she giggled. _

_ He nodded, solemnly. “Oh yes...do you know what it means? Yori?” _

_ She shook her head, a slight frown appearing as she seemed to notice that he was not as delighted by this conversation as she was. His Japanese was moderate, but it was enough to get by on, it was enough for him to make what he said next very clear. _

_ “Public servant,” he laughed, suddenly. “You’ve certainly become that, haven’t you? Posing nude for a foreign artist?” his laughter seemed to become too much for him and he bent over, laughing so hard. _

_ Yori was not as amused, and she tugged her robe tightly closed, blushing furiously as she pushed out of his smoky room. He heard her push past Madam Koizumi, who huffed as she entered the room, batting at the smoke that hit her, cup of tea in hand. She was an older woman, whose long greying hair was always down, sweeping to her elbows, her body was small and a bit bent, but she had a kind face, one that seemed to have greeted many foreigners over the years. _

_ “Mr. Choi,” she barked softly, drawing his attention. “I bring you these women for you to paint, why must you be so cruel to them?” she chided, setting down the tea, which she had seemingly brought for him. _

_ He marched across the room and swept it up, downing it in one gulp. It was hotter than he had expected and he coughed lightly. “I’m very sorry, Madam Koizumi, I do appreciate all of your hard work. But they’re no good.” _

_ “Who’s no good?” _

_ “The girls. None of them. They’re all no good.” _

_ She huffed again and joined him at the balcony, looking to where he was looking, nothing. “What is wrong with them?” _

_ “They’re too soft, their breasts are too plump and their legs are all wrong.” _

_ Madam Koizumi became suddenly distracted and wandered to the other side of the room, going to his stack of old paintings. “And what about your old model? Are you wanting something like that again?” she asked, picking one up and brushing some of the dust off. _

_ It was a beautiful painting of a slender figure, a pale back that led to a soft pair of buttocks, a narrow chin rested on the shoulders. The skin was smooth and elegant, but contrasted by a few harsh tattoos and brightly colored hair. The eyes were fierce and the hands clenched, as if they were walking away in anger. _

_ “Is this what you’d like?” she murmured. _

_ Seunghyun looked back at her, the painting in hand and he sighed heavily before looking back over the front yard. He muttered to himself, pulling out another cigarette and lighting it. “Perhaps,” he mumbled around it. “It’s time for me to leave here.” _

_ Madam Koizumi let out another of her famous huffs, before returning to his side, the dusty old canvas still in hand. “Why? Where would you go?” _

_ He sighed, his slender body bent over to meet his elbows to the railing. “Japan is...old news, by now. I have to go somewhere new. Or somewhere...old, to make it new again.” _

_ The elderly woman’s eyes narrowed at him and she shook her head. “I will never understand you, Mr. Choi, but I hope you find this impossible place you’re looking for,” she patted his side, before returning his old painting to it’s place in the corner and shuffling out of the room. _

_ Seunghyun didn’t turn to watch her leave, his mind traveling back to that far away place it’d been as of late... _

 

**Seoul, South Korea**

**Present Time  
  
**

Jiyong fixed his hair in his dirty little mirror, a sound of concentration leaving his mouth as he focused on getting his dark locks perfect. He frequently dyed his hair various colors, before this it had been bright green and before that a light blonde color. He was very interested in recent fashions and tried to keep his hair up to date with what was popular.

His phone lit up and he was hit with a painful reminder of the time, as he went over to check it, sure that Youngbae was nagging him to get downstairs, he was surprised to see that it wasn’t from his best friend. A pang struck his gut as he remembered the text he’d sent earlier:   
  


**_me_** _-_ _don’t respond, this is only for emergencies_

**5:59pm  
  
**

**_me_** _-_ _this is jiyong btw_

**6:00pm  
  
**

He hated himself for texting Seunghyun, but he figured if there truly was an emergency, maybe it wasn’t a bad idea. What emergency would he possibly want Seunghyun’s help for? There was no way to take it back now and he wanted to hit himself as he looked at the reply that Seunghyun had sent, despite his explicit request that he not reply.   
  


**_fucker_** _-_ _:)_

**6:46pm  
  
**

“Ugh,” Jiyong groaned, tossing his phone onto his bed. He straightened his belt, reaching for his jacket, which was a leather jacket with lots of buckles. Leather jackets were never his style, but he was only going as Youngbae’s wingman, as far as he was concerned, so he had to fit Youngbae’s look. He grabbed a cap and crammed it onto his head, not wanting to be recognized at the club as ‘the kid from the noodle shop’.

“That’s what you’re wearing?” was the first thing out of Youngbae’s mouth as he waited, leaning against his car. He himself was dressed in shredded acid wash jeans, a cool muscle tank with a logo on it and one of those bomber jackets that looked old, but were ‘in’ now.

Jiyong looked down at his own outfit, his tight black skinny jeans, his sheer leopard print blouse - which was a women’s, not that Youngbae would ever find out, but it was the only size that Jiyong could find that would fit him and he loved it - and his leather jacket that he was in the middle of buckling. They looked like a pair of idiots.

“You look like my slutty biker girlfriend,” Youngbae laughed, opening his car door for his best friend, with a little bow.

“At least my hair doesn’t look like a pile of shit,” Jiyong grumbled, flipping his friend off as he climbed into the car, which smelled like some questionable substances that might have once resembled potato chips. His nose wrinkled, but he decided not to comment on the stench.

The drive to the club was filled with Youngbae’s chatter as he nagged Jiyong about Seunghyun - whom they’d affectionately deemed  _ Fucker _ , claiming that he can find him someone ‘bigger’ at the club. Jiyong didn’t want to know in what region they might be bigger, because he didn’t care. He wasn’t interested in finding someone new, he just wanted the someone old to be gone, so he didn’t have to think about them anymore.

As Youngbae parked his car across the street from the club, Jiyong sighed heavily and unbuckled his seatbelt, suddenly feeling a bit sick from the drive. Maybe he’d leave early, get some sleep before he had work in the morning. He was hit with the realization that it was Friday evening and he did not have work in the morning, therefore he did not have an excuse for Youngbae to let him go home early.

“It’s after 5:00, so we can drink as much as we want,” Youngbae encouraged, dragging his smaller friend to the club entrance, where they showed their ID’s and slipped inside.

The second the door opened, the music hit them like a truck, it was so loud Jiyong wondered if the walls would break. He squinted a bit, the neon lights of the club were a contrast from the sun outside, it made him want to throw up all of a sudden. The drastic change in atmosphere was doing him no favors as Youngbae pulled him farther into the throng of people, heading straight for the bar. He sat them both down and ordered some shots.

He really didn’t want shots.

But he drank them, if for no other reason than Youngbae’s pitiful expression, begging him to not leave him to drink alone. After nearly thirty minutes of attempting to drown himself at the bar, Youngbae said “I’m going to dance” and disappeared quickly. Jiyong wanted to sink into the barstool.

There was so much noise and so many people, the sounds of whooping and cheering and the music was giving him a headache. He pulled a face and downed another shot, maybe he could wash his headache away with alcohol. Not his best idea, by the way...not his worst, either.

He pulled out his phone and squinted at the screen, trying to read the message that had come through, it was from Kang, saying that he would be out tonight. Relieved, Jiyong put his phone on silent and slipped it into his pocket. He didn’t want to think about anything right now, he just wanted to focus on getting so hammered that Youngbae wouldn’t be able to refuse taking him home early.

Sometimes health was worth the risk, Jiyong had decided this a long time ago, when he’d first began pickling himself on the weekends and smoking during the week. If for just a few moments of bliss, it was worth the potential of ‘Am I okay? Am I going to die?’

He slipped his jacket off, suddenly feeling very very hot, with the lights and the constant movement in the packed club. He leaned on the bar, requesting the bartender fill him another shot. He sipped at it slowly, but as he felt the presence of someone behind him and a soft voice ordering a drink, he quickly slammed it and looked over his shoulder at the stranger.

Handsome. Tall. Angular features. Dark hair. Sharp eyes. Not Seunghyun. That was a delicious temptation for Jiyong. He swiveled around on his stool and smiled up at the man, as he had the bartender swipe his card. It didn’t take long for him to notice Jiyong.

“You’re pretty,” the stranger commented, sounding genuine.

Jiyong felt his heart swell, it’d been awhile since anyone had called him that, especially anyone who smiled like that. He was drunk and was past caring, so he accepted the compliment with a giggle. He watched the tall stranger thank the bartender, as he took his drink and sauntered off, looking over his shoulder at Jiyong, passing a seductive wink as he walked away.

That looked like an invitation if Jiyong ever saw one.

He slid off of his stool carefully and tried not to stumble as he walked with as much confidence as he could muster, through the crowd of people after the man. He pushed past bodies, big ones and little ones, sleek ones and muscular ones, neither male nor female as far as Jiyong was concerned, because he didn’t bother to check. He was focused on one thing, this stranger who resembled someone that he used to love.

Hands passed over him as he moved, some wandering or searching, some just glancing by, not caring to stop and investigate. He wasn’t sure what else to expect, coming to a club, so he just accepted the touch. His body was on fire, probably from the alcohol, but he was good at pretending and could easily tell himself that he was enjoying being here.

The stranger had situated himself on one of the round sofas that wrapped around a table, he had leaned back and crossed his legs, watching Jiyong approach. He smiled softly as Jiyong joined him, the latter a little hazy now. He gave him a dopey grin and muttered something.

The man leaned forwards, “Sorry? I didn’t catch that.”

“Nice face,” Jiyong all but shouted, still somewhat concerned that he hadn’t heard him.

“Dongwook.”

“Nice name,” he shouted again. “Jiyong.”

Dongwook seemed to smile even wider, his teeth were pearly white and oh so enticing. Before Jiyong knew it, he was straddling Dongwook’s lap, making out with the tall man. He only paused to breathe for a minute, before returning to shoving his tongue down his throat.

A tap on his shoulder made him blink and look up to see a leggy blonde woman standing above them, she began complaining in English and Jiyong only understood a few words. Dongwook looked sheepish and he suddenly reached into Jiyong’s pocket, pulling out his mobile. He tapped around, most likely adding his number, before winking and apologizing. He disappeared with the angry woman, who was apparently very surprised and upset to find a man in her lover’s lap.

Jiyong smiled to himself, he didn’t know anything Dongwook and to be honest, he wasn’t overly memorable, but he had nice lips and a warm smile. Jiyong hoped he wouldn’t forget him come morning. As he sat on the empty couch, now alone, he sighed and leaned against the back, his head pounding.

Another man wandered up at some point and tried to kiss him, but Jiyong shoved him off. The man didn’t seem to like it all too much and tried to pressure him for more, but Jiyong shot him a nasty look and quickly slipped into the crowd.

He wanted to find Youngbae. He wanted to go home. His head hurt and he felt sick, he didn’t want to be here anymore. He just wanted to leave.

He pushed through the crowd, not seeing his friend anywhere.  _ Maybe I should go wait in his car? He always locks his car _ , he argued with himself. He pulled out his phone and texted Youngbae, going to find a corner to wait in, whenever Youngbae texted back then they would be on their way out of there. Right?

Nearly ten minutes later and having almost thrown up twice, Jiyong sighed and pulled out his phone, seeing no new texts. He groaned quietly and scrolled through his contacts. Kang was out, Seungri didn’t have a car, Seungri’s mother was an awful driver. He sighed and tapped on the one contact he didn’t want to have to rely on.

**_  
ji_** _-_ _i feel sick, can u get me?_

**8:57pm  
  
**

He waited quietly, expecting no response. There was no way that he would help him now, he’d been just as childish as ever and he had told him that it was only for emergencies, but now was an emergency, surely Seunghyun would be able to tell.   
  


**_fucker_ ** _ \- Where are you? _

**8:58pm  
  
**

Jiyong felt relief spread through him, warm and reliable. He tapped his location into the keyboard, not sure of the exact street before adding -  _ please hurry _ , at the end of the message. He really wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to stomach being here, he was  _ this _ close to throwing up then and there. He was just glad it wasn’t in Dongwook’s mouth.

He almost passed out before he felt a sturdy hand on his arm and he turned to see Seunghyun, tall and trustworthy. Or...maybe not. He still wasn’t sure about that, his drunken haze made it hard to think. He felt himself pulled out of the club, the dark cool air outside was a relief and he took a deep breath.

Allowing himself to be pushed around, he ended up laying in the back of a car, that was way nicer than he remembered ever being inside of before. He tried his best not to throw up all over the backseat and by the time they reached wherever they were going, he was groaning loudly, his stomach hurting.

“What did you drink?” Seunghyun grumbled, pulling him out of the back of the car.

“You live here?” Jiyong muttered.

“No, you idiot. This is a hospital.”

Jiyong realized that he’d broken out in a sweat, but he shook his head. “No, hospitals aren’t good for me,” he tried to resist Seunghyun’s firm grip, but found that he couldn’t.  _ Damn him and his firm muscles. _

The hospital was bright and annoying, the loud sounds of the machines made Jiyong squint and grumble. He barely heard the words that Seunghyun exchanged with the doctor, something about drinking too much and next thing he knew, he was being pulled by the doctor to a quieter room where they stuck a needle in him. He didn’t have the energy to complain, but he certainly didn’t like it.

Everything was a haze and when the doctor flashed a bright light in his eye, he whined loudly and tried to pull away. His stomach gurgled awfully and he couldn’t hold back anymore, promptly throwing up all over himself and the floor.

The doctor muttered to Seunghyun, before helping Jiyong take his now wet shirt off, his vomit was pure liquid as he hadn’t eaten all day and the doctor chided him softly. Some nurses came in and Jiyong was vaguely awake enough to be able to experience a sponge bath for the first time in his life, before they laid him back and he was asleep before he even hit the pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading, please be sure to let me know what you think!
> 
> also I couldn't resist throwing se7en in, he will most likely be in future chapters as well D:


	4. OX-TAIL SOUP

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jiyong throws his morals out the window.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks, thanks for all the kudos and views and whatnot, you're all the best. :)  
> Anyways, this chapter made me feel pretty bad tbh, Jiyong doesn't deserve this.  
> Have fun!

The hospital only kept him for the night, making sure he was well fed and dressed in clean clothes before letting him go. They said that his bill was covered and that was lucky to have a smart friend, as most people didn’t bring their drunk friends to the hospital and just dumped them at home. Jiyong still wasn’t sure why Seunghyun hadn’t dumped him at home, he wasn’t there when he awoke and he hadn’t texted him since. Shortly after being released, Jiyong had been put on a strict diet of no Youngbae and a lot of food, courtesy of Kang, who had grumbled at him.

“I can’t believe you didn’t call me,” he had scolded, while making egg rolls two days later. He was still gone the day after Jiyong went to the club and hadn’t returned till late the night before, when he’d found out about his roommate’s trip to the hospital. “I would’ve come home.”

“Kang, I’m fine,” Jiyong insisted. “And anyways, when did you get so nice? You didn’t use to care.”

Kang fixed him with a look before sighing. “I’ve always cared, but you used to only call me ‘cock’, so I didn’t really want to actively help you. Now that you’ve gone off and almost killed yourself from alcohol poisoning, I’ve decided it’s best that I step in, for your safety.”

Jiyong rolled his eyes, not denying the ‘cock’ part. He hadn’t been very kind to his flatmate for the longest time and didn’t care to call him by his name, part of the reason Jiyong had forgotten it by now and it was past the point of awkward to ask. Maybe he’d actually bother and sneak a peek at his mail later.

Except...Kang didn’t really get mail. At least, not very often and if he did, it wasn’t under his name, it was addressed to ‘Current Resident’, it was like he never put his name on his address to begin with. And even weirder, he didn’t use to go out, like ever, but recently he’d been going out a lot.

Suspicious was one word to put it, but Kang was being downright odd. Jiyong wanted to ask him some ‘subtle’ questions, but before he knew it, food was placed in front of him and Kang was urging him to eat. He ate in silence, weighing his options of interrogating his roommate, but then his phone buzzed. Eyes still trained on the innocent roommate gone suspicious, he picked up his phone and glanced at the text.

**_yb_ ** \-  _ u ok? srry bout the other nite _

**9:23am**

He sighed and quickly replied.

**_ji_ ** \-  _ I’m okay next time don’t put your phone on silent tho _

**9:24m**

Setting his phone aside, he realized he still had work at 10:00, which required him to actually put real clothes on. He padded across the flat to his bedroom, his baggy shorts and t-shirt made him feel like a little kid, but he quickly threw them off and grabbed some jeans. He almost fell over tugging his jeans on and then grabbed a clean pullover, a simple black one. He slipped it on and then tugged it down to reach his palms, sweater paws were a must - even if they were actually pullover paws.

He could hear his phone buzz from the bathroom, where he was brushing his teeth and he curiously poked his head out, before creeping back into the kitchen, leaving tiny drops of toothpaste behind him.

Kang made a disgruntled sound when he saw the toothpaste trail that followed Jiyong from the bathroom to the kitchen and he went to clean it up while Jiyong checked his phone.

**_Handsome Dongwook_ ** \-  _ Hey there, I was going to stop for dinner after work today and was wondering if you might want to meet me. I promise my girlfriend won’t be there. _

**9:36am**

Jiyong stared at the screen for a moment, blinking slowly.  _ Handsome Dongwook? _ Cheeky bastard. He couldn’t help the tiny smile that appeared on his face as he thought about a reply, he wasn’t sure how to even reply. And it would be too eager of him to reply right away, so he simply left it for now, he could reply later, no harm in that.

He all but skipped back to the bathroom to spit out his toothpaste, hearing Kang yell at him about the ‘toothpaste driblets’ that he was leaving behind him. He chuckled as he rinsed his mouth, before going in search of socks.

“Sorry, Kang!” he yelled in return. He found a pair of black socks and tugged them on, before wriggling his toes and going under his bed for a pair of trainers. He found his favorite pair and slipped his feet into them, not bothering to pull the back part over his heel.

Riding his bicycle to work was a bit more enjoyable today as he knew that he would be able to think about Dongwook all day. He wasn’t quite sure what Dongwook looked like, just that he looked like Seunghyun but wasn’t and that was good enough for him. He parked his bike where he usually did and wandered into the ramen shop.

“Jiyong-ah!” Mrs. Lee called out. “Hurry over here, I need you to take this!”

He followed the voice into the kitchen, for once pleased to be here, he found quite a scene. Mrs. Lee was quite short and often had trouble with her pots and pans, which were a little higher than she usually ended up reaching. She was currently trying to pull a particularly large pot down from the rack and Jiyong slid closer to grab it from her. He set it on the stove, where she was preparing to make another batch of ramen for the day.

The shop wasn’t open yet, as it didn’t open till 11am, but Jiyong always arrived early on Sundays, because Seungri wasn’t working, so he didn’t have to worry about seeing that brat. However, Sandara did work today and she was a bit of a...hyper person. She was almost too bright, personality wise, but she was sharp minded and could easily get a temper if you bothered her, which Jiyong tried not to do.

Just as he was about to flip the sign to open, now that he had prepped everything, in came the mess of hair that was Sandara. Her brunette hair was a mess and she had a cute smile, which she flashed a Jiyong for a second, before she dashed to the back to hang up her coat. He sighed heavily. He didn’t mind her as a person, but as a coworker, she was a little eccentric.

The day passed by relatively quickly, the usual customers coming in and ordering the same thing they always did, which Jiyong had found himself noticing more and more lately, he wasn’t always attentive to the customers, but something recently had caught his eye about them. They were shiftier than usual and he couldn’t not pay attention to them all of a sudden.

Just as he was about to wipe down a table, he heard the lodging’s door slam open and Seunghyun came trudging out, dragging a suitcase behind him. His eyes shot wide open and he wanted to hide immediately, but instead he decided to stand his ground. He was getting awfully tired of running away from Seunghyun, he’d done it a lot recently.

“Leaving so soon, Mr. Choi?” Sandara asked, coming from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. She usually just stuck to the back while Jiyong worked the counter, he was used to not seeing her until the day was over, but he supposed Seunghyun attracted all sorts of folk.

“Yes! The renovations for my old penthouse have been finished, so I shall be returning to there. Thank you for your hospitality, Ms. Park,” Seunghyun replied politely, bowing slightly to her.

She bowed in return and wished him well as he pushed past Jiyong, who scowled slightly, pretending as if he didn’t know him and he tried to ignore the way his heart pounded like it wanted to climb out of his chest. Sandara gave him an odd look, before going back to the kitchen.

As soon as his shift was over, it was already 5:00pm, his shoulders sagging with the exhaustion of carrying steaming hot bowls of noodles from the kitchen to the tables. He knew it wasn’t very difficult work and he really should be grateful for the job, but he was Jiyong, he was bound to complain regardless of the situation. 

Grabbing his coat, Jiyong said goodbye to Sandara before disappearing out the door, the cool air hitting him. He pulled out his phone to look at it, a text was awaiting attention.

**_Handsome Dongwook_ ** \-  _ If you decide you want to join me, I’ll be at Byeokje Galbi till 8-ish. Alone. ;) _

**4:23**

Jiyong couldn’t help but smile to himself, Byeokje Galbi was known as one of the best barbeque restaurants in Seoul, he couldn’t believe he’d struck gold with this guy. Not only was he handsome, but he was rich and willing to buy Jiyong an expensive dinner. The little winky face at the end of his text wasn’t making Jiyong feel any less drawn towards him.

He biked home quickly and nearly ran to his room, ignoring Kang’s protest of “Take your shoes off!” He threw his clothes off and began rummaging in his closet. Jeans, too many jeans. He found a nice pair of short black slacks and decided that they would do. He found a plain white button up, but turned his nose up at it, he dressed to impress not bore.

A comfortable blue turtleneck, he nodded to himself and tossed it onto his bed. He sometimes questioned where all of his clothes came from, he didn’t remember buying half of them, but Youngbae always suggested that he got them from his grandmother. It wasn’t too wild of a suggestion.

He needed a nice jacket to go on top of his pullover and so he went to his ‘nice’ overwear section and found his navy regency blazer with the pretty gold buttons. He felt satisfied as he tossed it onto his bed with the rest of his outfit. Shoes were all that was left, he needed loafers. The burgundy suede ones with the inset gems on the toe.

Satisfied with his chosen clothing, he set about doing his makeup and hair, he needed to look perfect. He combed his dark locks back, looking at how exposed his forehead was.  _ No, that’s not right. You can’t be open, you need to be more cryptic _ . He brushed all of his hair forwards, giving him that messy but perfect look that Lee Dong Wook perfected.

He finished his makeup with a perfect swish of eyeliner and then dressed, taking a look at himself in the mirror, he was quite satisfied with his look. He latched a gold cross necklace around his neck and then slid his shoes on, he looked good.

“I’m going out to dinner,” he announced, coming out of his room and showing off his outfit to Kang, who stared at him for all of three seconds before scoffing.

“With who? Hyun Bin?” he shook his head, laughing. “You look good, Jiyong. But aren’t you a little overdressed?”

Jiyong considered this, was he overdressed? He decided on no and went to hail a cab. There was no way he was riding his bicycle to Byeokje Galbi, he would A. look like a cad and B. probably ruin his slacks.

When the taxi arrived at the restaurant, Jiyong paid the fare and stopped to appreciate the establishment, the building looked clean and well cared for, he could only imagine how nice the inside was. It definitely lived up to his expectations, he thought as he stepped inside, the quality of the restaurant was nothing to the quality of the food. He could tell by the smell that Dongwook was exactly the kind of person he needed in his life.

He spotted the well dressed man at a small table in the center of the dining area, he made his way over to join him, noticing that he’d already ordered some ox-tail soup for the both of them. Dongwook smiled and Jiyong’s heart skipped a beat, he really did resemble Seunghyun in an eery way, but he also had his own charms. His slender nose made his bright grin all the more delicate in appearance and Jiyong returned the smile.

He took note of what Dongwook was wearing, clothes were very important to Jiyong. He was wearing an impeccably cut black suit that must have been tailor made, the fabric was delicately patterned with a lace print and if Jiyong looked closer, he could see that the lapels were silk. He was pleased and leaned back in his seat.

“You look good,” Dongwook said, breaking their silence as he examined Jiyong.

Jiyong couldn’t resist a small beam of pride, he liked it when people complimented his looks, he knew that he was handsome, he also knew that he was pretty, but most importantly, he was a delicate balance between the two. It made him all the more attractive, as far as he was concerned.

“As do you,” he replied, ducking his head, pretending to be shy. It was all apart of his routine, he would be coy for the first half an hour or so and then he would slowly seduce his date into taking him home. He was well versed in this.

“I hope you don’t mind, I took the liberty of ordering ahead of time. Also,” Dongwook paused here, chewing on one of his plump beautiful lips. “Thank you.”

Jiyong was actually surprised at this. “For...what?”

“Coming. I thought you wouldn’t.”

“No, you didn’t,” Jiyong giggled. “How cheeky of you, playing pitiful.”

Dongwook smirked and nodded slightly. “Well, I considered the idea that you wouldn’t. It made me sad, to be honest.”

“Whatever. So tell me about you,” Jiyong leaned forwards, poking at his soup.

“Let’s eat first, we’ll talk later,” Dongwook assured.

They agreed and fell into a quiet air of slurping down their soup, the only sounds they made were the murmurs of approval as they filled their mouths with the delicious food. Jiyong had never had ox-tail soup this good, he only ever had Kang’s cheap imitations, but this was another level entirely. It was amazing. The meat was perfectly tender and the radish was still crunchy, not overcooked. He was in heaven.

After they finished their soup, they were left with an awkward silence of staring at each other, Jiyong with some suspicion and curiosity and Dongwook with a mixture of admiration and innocence. How could such a beautiful man be so...seemingly pure? And they met at a club, of all places.

“Now tell me about you,” Jiyong urged.

“What do you want to know?”

Where to start? Jiyong took a deep breath and began listing his questions. “How old are you? What do you do for a living? Do you live in this area? Are you single? This one I was particularly unsure about-”

“What are you doing after this?” Dongwook interjected.

Jiyong blinked at him for a minute. “Depends.”

“On what the answers are to those questions?” Dongwook assumed, receiving a nod in return, he began replying to each question in order. “I’m 32, I run a news broadcasting company, I live just inside of Itaewon and I have a girlfriend,” he held Jiyong’s gaze as he answered them before asking his own question. “Do you have a problem with any of my answers?”

“...No,” Jiyong smirked.

“You wanna get out of here?” Dongwook leaned in.

“...Yeah,” was Jiyong’s reply.

Dongwook’s penthouse was nice, really nice from what Jiyong could tell, but he couldn’t quite see well as he was glued to Dongwook’s face, giving his eyes minimum room to see just yet. Dongwook was quite good with his hands, he decided as they were everywhere at once, his waist, his back, his head, his butt. He couldn’t keep track of the man.

They hadn’t even locked the door behind them as Dongwook pushed him onto the couch, climbing on top of him to begin kissing down his jaw and throat, spluttering when his mouth hit the soft collar of Jiyong’s pullover. He leaned back to help Jiyong slip out of it, giving his guest more room and time to examine his home.

It was elegantly furnished, not a whole lot of color, but almost to Jiyong’s taste. It was large, the living room melding into the kitchen, separated by a glass wall. There was a fireplace, in front of which a plain rug lay, the furniture was nice, but not particularly noteworthy. A winding staircase led to an upstairs and Jiyong barely got a glimpse of a balcony off the side of the living room, before Dongwook was back on him.

Now with his nice pullover abandoned on the floor, Jiyong felt a tiny bit bitter, but he allowed Dongwook to kiss him, moving to accommodate both of their bodies on the narrow sofa. It wasn’t a great making out sofa, but it wasn’t bad, Jiyong thought.

At some point, they stumbled upstairs, Jiyong appreciating the expansive hall that led into three doorways. He wondered what was behind them, most likely a bathroom and two bedrooms, did someone else live here? He mentally shrugged as Dongwook pulled him into one of the rooms, closing it behind them.

He hadn’t paid attention most of the night, allowing Dongwook to do whatever he wished with him, he was never too picky when it came to sex. He remembered it being pretty good, but mostly he remembered falling asleep cold.

When he awoke the next morning, he was alone, sitting up in the large bed by himself. The sheets were nice. The pillows were soft, but something about the whole room felt stiff. It was nearly empty, the only furnishings were the bed and a desk, the closet looked large but it was closed off and likely full of suits only.

He climbed off the bed, wrapped in one of the black sheets, breathing in deeply through his nose. He had expected the smell of some form of breakfast, or at the very least coffee. But there wasn’t any. His heart throbbed dully.

He carefully stepped out of the room, looking around for any sign of human life, but there was nothing. He moved down the stairs and into the living room, where he saw his abandoned pullover still on the floor. His stomach grumbled loudly.

The kitchen was mostly silver, it looked like it hadn’t been properly used in a very long time, it felt almost like a decoy, to pretend like this was a real human’s home. There was a little sticky note stuck to the counter, it was a neat scrawl that read:

_ I left for work, didn’t want to wake you. There might be some food in the fridge if you’re hungry. I’ll text you when I’m off. _

Jiyong stared at the note for way too long, before he went to check the refrigerator. There was some leftover kimchi, red pepper paste, rice and a few beers. How did this man live on this? He sighed and pulled out the rice and kimchi, his stomach making angry sounds still.

He looked around for a pan to heat it up on the stove, but there wasn’t anything that someone could use to cook. There was only a microwave and some microwave plates. He used one to heat up the leftovers and then searched for some chopsticks. Steel chopsticks, of course.

He ate in silence, staring at the wall across from him, it was blank. Most of the house was blank, now that he noticed. He had liked it last night at first glance, but the more he looked around, the more he found his nose wrinkling at the lack of furnishings.

What a boring home, hardly could be considered a home, really.

Jiyong showered and dressed in what he had been wearing the previous night, normally he would borrow a t-shirt from his bedmate, but today he decided he didn’t need an excuse to come back, nor did he particularly want one.

He called for a taxi and went back to his apartment. He’d never been embarrassed about the ‘walk of shame’ as most called it, but something was different this time. He felt empty inside, like something had been taken from him.

Arriving back at his flat, he paid the cab driver and trudged up the stairs. His flat was empty, Kang was most likely at work. He was glad that there was no one here to see him, he didn’t really want any human interaction right now. He took his clothes off and found some clean boxers and a t-shirt that came down past his butt. Now dressed in something far more comfortable, he curled up on the couch with a large blanket and some stray chips that he’d found in the pantry.

The flat he shared with Kang was small and dirty, but something about it was more comfortable than Dongwook’s large empty penthouse would ever be. He closed his eyes and leaned back on the old lumpy sofa. It was still better than Dongwook’s stiff clean couch.

He let out a sigh.

“You are a cad,” he muttered to himself, shoving a handful of chips into his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Lemme know what you think :D
> 
> I am slowly but surely turning dongwook into a sugar daddy, just a warning  
> and poor kang T.T just wait

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!  
> I hope you enjoyed it.  
> The next chapter should be up next week, I'm thinking of selecting a specific day of the week to update this fic.  
> Lemme know what you think!


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